[Cobalt just... really wants to kiss him right now.

Really, really badly.

He has to physically stop himself from leaning down to press his lips to the spot where the tattoo will go. There are a lot of people here, and that's scary, so instead they're both going to have to deal with the very loud ache of artificially stifled affection.]

...Alright. Wrist, then.

[The tattoo gun will have to deliver the kiss for him, instead.]